


Never Going Back Again

by StarsGarters



Series: Growler [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease, Cruelty, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, F/M, Gaslighting, HYDRA Trash Party, Homophobic Language, M/M, Pre-HYDRA Reveal, rumlow is a bag of dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 06:43:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2763491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsGarters/pseuds/StarsGarters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wants to share the most important parts of his life with Brock. It's a pity that includes Peggy Carter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Going Back Again

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Не возвращайся назад](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667467) by [Saysly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saysly/pseuds/Saysly)



It was Thursday afternoon, nearly six o'clock. 

That meant that Steve Rogers would come through Rumlow's door, hang up his jacket and sit down on the sofa, staring off into his distant memories. Rumlow could set his clock by it. He leaned against the kitchen island and popped the cap off his beer bottle. "So, are you going to sit there and stew? Or are you going to talk about it?" This batch was smooth, he had a good balance on the hops and the grain. He'd have to try adding a touch more yeast next time. 

"What is there to talk about?" Steve sighed, his massive shoulders shifting.

"Well, you just got back from seeing the love of your life, right? Did she remember you this time?" Probably not. When she did, Steve usually looked  _moister._  

"We... didn't have much of a conversation. Remember, I'm supposed to be  _dead_." Rumlow covered up his sardonic smirk by taking a swig. _  
_

Rumlow sat down on the couch and put his sock-clad feet in Steve's lap. "Then why do you still go? Oh rub like you mean it, Cap." Steve rubbed his thumbs on Rumlow's arches and looked down at the carpet.

"I have to. I _owe_ it to her." All that guilt, just for surviving. It was silly in Rumlow's eyes and so easily exploitable. Sentiment made you weak.

He melted against the couch, luxuriating in the foot rub. "I'd think that she'd want to remember you the way you were."

Steve's grip tightened and Rumlow winced. " _I am_  the way I _was_." _  
_

"I meant, she'd want to remember the way you saw her then. Young, beautiful..."

Smile smiled gleefully at his memories. " _Dangerous_. She had a devil of a right hook. Peggy was-- _is_ \-- well she was a force of nature. She was someone worth fighting for." He blinked and sighed wistfully. 

"Was?" Rumlow prompted, he took another swig from his bottle. 

"Look, you can't understand." Rumlow winced again and kicked at Steve.

"Ouch, damn it. Of course I can't. I've never met the lady." He frowned and took his feet away. 

"Sorry." Steve apologized, "I forget my own strength sometimes." He cocked his head to the side and looked at Rumlow intently. "Would you like to? Visit?" 

Rumlow laughed. "Don't think I rank high enough to merit that honor." Why the hell would he  _want_ to anyway? Unless there was something that he could learn, some weakness to exploit there. Or another way to isolate Steve, to make him more dependent on Rumlow... 

"You could come with me. Visit Peggy with me." The plea was heartfelt and earnest. Rumlow decided to play coy. 

"Naah, that just wouldn't be right." Another swig. "I'm not as shiny as you legends. They'll never write about me in the history books." 

Steve ran his hand up the side of Rumlow's sweatpants. "We were just doing what needed to be done. You're a member of SHIELD Brock. I think Peggy would be proud to see what all her hard work led up to." Steve hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled it down, exposing Rumlow's cock. He leaned over and licked a strip up the increasing length then lavished Rumlow's balls with the flat of his tongue. "Really, I want you to go." 

Rumlow put his arm behind his head and raised a cheeky eyebrow. "Mr. Rogers, I believe you're trying to sway me-" His mock protest died in his throat as Steve swallowed him down, showing off how long he could go without taking a breath. If this whole operation went tits up, if everything failed, Rumlow would still have this memory to smile to himself about. Getting deep-throated by the symbol of everything HYDRA stood against. 

"Is it working?" Steve asked when he came up for air, the corners of his pink lips smeared with saliva. 

Rumlow shivered and wound his fist in Steve's hair, he pushed him back down. "Not if you keep talking!" 

++

The smell of a nursing home was repellant to Rumlow. All around him was evidence of what awaited him once his youth left him. He glared at the eternally youthful Steve. Fucker probably wouldn't wrinkle without a fight. Steve was probably giving these old fart massive flashbacks to grainy black and white serials without even noticing. Rumlow knit his brows and shoved his hands into his pockets. Steve reached over and gave him a one-armed hug. 

"See, it's not that bad." He smiled and Rumlow rolled his eyes. 

"I've had more fun in a Serbian POW camp." Of course, he wasn't one of the prisoners, he was one of the guards, but Steve didn't need to know that. It's where he learned how to wield a stun baton, lots of practice on the rebellious captives and no one in charge cared one bit. Hell, he'd even gotten a Christmas bonus and a bottle of Slivovitz.  

An old man with a comb over greeted them cheerfully, "Hello faggots!" Rumlow bristled and Steve held him in the hug a few moments too long, restraining him.

"Hello, Mr. Wallace. You're looking well." Steve commented mildly. 

"Too stubborn to die. Gonna spit in old Grim's eye socket." The old man leaned over his walker and looked at them with explicit hunger. "You've good people for being a homo, Blondie. You remind me of someone... Wait, wait. It will come to me. Maybe if you bend over, you'll jog my memory." 

"See you next Thursday, Mr. Wallace." Steve hustled Rumlow down the hallway, nearly picking him up with his one massive arm. 

Rumlow hissed under his teeth, "Call me faggot again and you might get to meet old Grim a lot sooner. _Prick_." He glared at Steve. "This really sucks. You owe me." 

"Yeah, but you can't haul off and hit that guy. You'll break him in half. Besides, this is the memory care wing. He hits on me every Thursday without fail and never remembers anything."

Rumlow snorted. "He remembers your ass."

Steve shrugged. "You're the one that called it a _National_ _Treasure_." 

"Fuck off Rogers!" Rumlow shrugged loose of Steve's grip, crossed his arms and grimaced. "Let's get this over with." 

"Steve? Is that you?" A weak voice called out from the open door. "Is that really you?" 

Steve smiled at Peggy with a fondness and softness that Rumlow had never seen before. "Yeah, it's me Peggy. I brought someone to meet you. Remember I told you about him--?" Steve ducked his head and smiled at the floor, then grabbed Rumlow by the hand and pulled him over to the bedside. "This is Brock Rumlow. He's my STRIKE team leader and my very good friend." Steve turned that smile upon Rumlow and he felt suddenly flushed and uncomfortable.

"STRIKE?" Peggy asked. She was frail but her voice didn't shake. It was lunch time and her tray of food was on a table beside her bed. There were pictures of her family and Steve on the doily covered dresser.

"Yes ma'am." Brock offered her his hand and she ignored it. He took it back and wiped it on his pants as if it were covered in filth.

"Howard never approved of STRIKE. Neither did _I_. Fury took what was the essence of the Howling Commandos and mutated it, changed it into something reeking of fascism." Her steely gaze softened upon Steve. "But, if you're on it Steve, I'm sure you'll keep STRIKE from becoming something vile." Rumlow scratched the back of his neck.

"With all due respect, ma'am, the world has changed since those first days. We've just adapted to the new threats. We're all about prevention now. Saving lives. Making the world a better place. Isn't that what you and Howard Stark fought for? Now we have this guy, " Rumlow nudged Steve with his elbow. "The namesake of the whole operation, to inspire us to do better. We'll make you proud."

"Well you better get cracking Mr. Rumlow, because what I've seen so far hasn't been impressive."

Rumlow bit back a sharp retort and swallowed his pride. "I'll let you two have some time, I'll be out there fending off Mr. Wallace if you need me." She'd pay for that later, he swore.

" _Peggy_." Steve said reproachfully. Rumlow listened from outside the door. 

"Forgive me Steve. I'm... old but I'm not blind. You're dating that man, aren't you?" She sighed.

"Yes. Yes I am, Peggy." 

"Does he make you happy?" 

"I think I _love_ him, Peggy." Rumlow grinned and examined his fingernails. 

"Yes, but does that make you happy?" Steve must have nodded, because Peggy continued, "Then I shall endeavor to be more courteous. But really, Steve? STRIKE? Really? Why not some young thing from the secretarial pool?"

"The heart want, what the heart wants. You know that better than anyone Peggy. And no other girl can hold a candle to you." Rumlow nearly hurled from the sheer saccharine sweetness of the moment.

"You do deserve a life, Steve, you do. I've had mine, even though I've forgotten pieces of it. So please, be happy. Forgive yourself my dear." They spoke in hushed whispers, Rumlow couldn't strain hard enough to hear. It was probably ridiculously sappy.   

Steve spoke loudly, "I brought you a present, but I left it in the car. I'll be right back." Steve clapped Rumlow on the shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes glimmered with unshed tears. He nodded towards the room and gave Rumlow a nudge in that direction. Rumlow held up his hands in mock surrender. 

"Come here young man." Peggy's eyes flickered over Rumlow, taking his measure and obviously still finding him lacking.

"Yes ma'am." Rumlow pulled the door closed behind him.

"I've been harsh towards you, regrettably so. You're with a very special man." That was as close to an apology as Peggy would let herself do. 

"One of a kind, isn't he?" Rumlow grinned with neat white teeth and sat down beside her bed. 

Her exasperated sigh was faint, "I didn't mean the super-soldier part. Under that perfection lies the biggest heart I've ever known and if you break that, there will be hell to pay." She folded her knobby fingers and stared at him, awaiting his reaction to her advice. 

Rumlow kicked his boots up on the side of her bed, leaned back and said, "See,  _that's_  what I'm counting on." Her eyes went wide with alarm and Rumlow grinned harder. 

"What?" Her mouth dropped open in shock.

"For an old broad, you still have good instincts. I'm going to fuck the fight right out of him. And when he's totally  _mine_ , then he'll never see the final blow coming." 

"What are you saying!?" She gasped and clutched at the throat of her gown. 

"Poor poor Peggy Carter. All those years fighting. Building up this organization, naming it after your lost sweetheart. It would be quite impressive if it weren't so fucking  _sad_." Rumlow sat up and leaned in close, conspiratorially. "You didn't get rid of us sweetheart. You just made us much, much better at hiding in plain sight. We're a  _part_  of Shield, Peggy." Rumlow saluted for dramatic effect and said with a sneer, " _Hail_ _HYDRA!_ "

Peggy lashed out with a fork from her food tray and caught Rumlow in the fleshy web of his hand. She moved faster than Rumlow expected, but he still laughed in her face. "I will stop you. Steve will stop you!" She breathlessly shrieked.  

Rumlow watched his blood well up from the four small stab wounds. "Who's going to believe you? You're fucked in the head." He twirled his finger around his ear in the universal gesture for insanity. "Every Thursday, Steve comes to visit you and afterwards, he is _devastated_. You hurt him so badly with your forgetfulness. He comes home to me and I tie him up on my bed until he's helpless, then I fuck the shit out of him to erase your last lingering presence in his mind. I'm going to suggest that he stops coming to see you, because he causes  _you_ so much pain. And we don't want to be cruel to the elderly, do we?" 

Peggy lunged again with the fork and Rumlow slapped it out of her hand as lightly as swatting at a mosquito. "Please. Don't make a fool out of yourself." 

"I  _will_ stop you." Peggy shook with anger and frustration, tears streamed down her face. Rumlow smirked and let out a theatrical yelp of pain. An orderly rushed into the room.

"Nurse! Nurse! She's so agitated. I'm so _worried_ for her. She stabbed me with her fork." He held up his bloody hand as proof.

Peggy cried out, struggling with the orderly, "Get off me! He's HYDRA! He's bloody HYDRA! Don't you understand!?" 

"But, Peggy? You defeated HYDRA? Don't you remember?" Rumlow said in his most concerned and thoughtful tone as Steve rushed in the door.

"You both need to leave now." A nurse pushed them out into the hallway. Rumlow could hear the muffled sounds of a struggle. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Too easy. 

"What happened?" Steve grabbed at Rumlow's bloodied hand. 

"It's just a little scratch. I'm fine. I don't know, she accused me of being a HYDRA agent, stabbed me with her fork and the nurses sedated her." He looked up at Steve and frowned. "Do you think that your visits might be more than she can take right now? Are you being cruel to her by messing with her head? Are you being more than a little selfish, Steve?" 

"Maybe. I guess." Steve swallowed hard and gathered Rumlow into his arms, burying his face into Rumlow's neck.

There _it_ was. The _moistness_. Every fucking Thursday.

**Author's Note:**

> She broke down and let me in  
> Made me see where I've been
> 
> Been down one time  
> Been down two times  
> I'm never going back again.
> 
> -Fleetwood Mac


End file.
